An Immovable Force
by machee
Summary: Chaos is an immovable force, The Joker is an immovable force, and one unfortunate girl is about to experience how inert both forces are. RATING MAY CHANGE AS STORY PROGRESSES.
1. The Beginning, Part One

**Hello, my lovelies!**

**Just so you know, the very same fanfic can be found on Quotev. I originally wrote the fanfic on Quotev and decided to publish it here as well because I know there are a lot more Joker fans over here who will be able to give me some advice or clarify some things I may not have picked up on.**

**Well, here it is.**

Rita remembered the young teenage boy who lived in 32 Elm street in the 'bad' side of town.

Her family lived in a nearby area beside Gotham's upper residents. Rita's family was not wealthy, per say, nor were they poor. Rita's mother came from a middle-class family that lived in uptown Gotham, however Rita's father had lived opposite that, in the Narrows. Her mother's parents worked as accountants in banks, and her father's family mainly relied on any irregular jobs they could get their hands on. Despite being from completely different social classes, Brendon and Rachel married. Rita's parents mainly had a problem with their marriage, stating that Brendon could not possibly afford a life for himself, nor with another person, and especially when starting a family. However, a couple years later they grew tired of fighting when Rita was born.

Rita liked to think that she dispatched the quarrel between her grandparents.

After Rita was born, Brendon had wanted to rent a house in the Narrows, close to his parents however Rachel's parents had begged not to; they knew the dangers and the filth that purged the Narrows, they knew no one could raise a happy healthy child there. So, Rita's parents had settled in a decent safe place with the help of Rachel's parent's financial contribution, and few times a year, the Dawson family would travel through inner Gotham, and into the Narrows, through Elm street at the end on house 67 where a little shack resides, inhabiting Brendon's parents.

Rita always remembered Elm street. It was the 'highway' where she had her real first impression on the Narrows.

Right there, on 32 Elm street lived a very tall boy (back then, Rita had no clue that teenagers existed and always refereed to them as tall boys and girls) who had blonde unruly hair that gave off the appearance of not having been washed with properly with shampoo and conditioner. Rita defined him as 'the boy with golden hair', firstly because it reminded her of the colour of the golden goose egg from Jack and the Beanstalk, and secondly because it shone like a halo, despite the lack of bright sun that day. Rarely did sunlight ever pass through the dreary grey mass of clouds that permanently hung over Gotham.

The instant his hair caught her attention from the corner of her eye, young little Rita's eyes were drawn over the little beaten shack-house where a father and his son were arguing. Rita's eyes had widened in interest and horror as she caught the man backhand his son.

'Mom, look!', Rita tried to grab the attention of her mother, pointing at the young boy and his abusive parent.

'Honey, don't look outside, don't make eye contact with anyone. This place is not like where we live,' her mother said sternly while fidgeting with her hands. She was concerned about her family's safety.

Rita stopped pointing and rested both her hands together in her lap while she continued to stare at the poor boy outside.

The boy who was knocked to the dry ground met eyes with Rita, causing her to squeal inside and look away quickly.

What made Rita squeal was not because he caught her staring, but because of the small neat scar that ran on the right corner of his mouth in a mock-kind of smirk.

Throughout the last minutes of the ride to her grandparent's house, Rita dared not to look up in case she saw anyone else as freaky as the young boy on the lawn.

Rita temporarily forgot about the depressing boy at house 32 of Elm street because she had a fun time with her grandparents. Rita secretly favoured her grandparents who lived in the Narrows than her grandparents who lived in the richer part of town. It was because they were lived happier despite their frequent financial problems and their residence in the most filthiest area in Gotham, and possibly in the state; whereas her other grandparents were less livelier, although they lived in one of the safest areas in Gotham city.

Rita thought perhaps it was all that math they did for a living. She herself was always left in a bad mood after her teacher Ms. Claire taught addition and subtraction.

On the way through Elm street, Rita stared outside her window, oblivious to all the odd happenings that occurred behind the closed doors of each house that passed by, finally her family's commodore drove by 32 Elm street. The met eyes with the boy from before with the odd scars was sitting on the porch, arms crossed resting on his knees, watching passer-bys, including her.

His eyes traveled with hers as the car drove by, not a sign of recognition, even though his blank piercing eyes gave off the impression that he noticed her as the girl from before. This time, however, Rita did not look away, instead she stared at abject horror as she recognised something different about the boy not 4 hours ago.

His once small scars where ripped opened further, causing the lines to nearly meet his cheekbones. Rita could see that they were stitched in thin black wiry ropes and the area surrounding the wound was stained lightly red, indicating that the wound was made very recently. What used to be fine scarring on his mouth was now a full-blown angry smile on his face.

His head slightly tilted when watching her in the car, and Rita sworn she saw him lightly tilt the corners of his lips in a mock smile that seemed to say that everything was all peachy, though they both knew it was far from that. His bland eyes twinkled with a little mischief, and Rita somehow knew that this boy from 32 Elm street had changed in some way (not just physically) the last she'd seen him not 4 hours ago.

For the first few years her family drove past 32 Elm street since that day, Rita would look down at her feet to avoid seeing outside the window, however, as several years passed by, Rita's grandparents who lived in the Narrows passed away and the last time her family ever travelled to the Narrows was on the funeral day where they had to pick up her grandparent's belongings, and it was also the first time after years and years that Rita began to purposely look out the window for the young boy that plagued her mind since childhood.

Unfortunately, the little run-down shack seemed to not be inhabited by the boy and his family as the wooden planks nailed across the front door and broken windows as well as the police tape surrounding the property suggested.

Although the incident with the golden-haired boy had happened a decade ago, Rita still remembered that day, even up until now, as a freshman at Gotham High.


	2. The Beginning, Part Two

Originally, Rita's grandparents had wanted her to attend the prestigious high school in Gotham where rich kids like Bruce Wayne attended, however, despite their promised input of extra dollars in the intuition fee (with the help of her grandparent's money), the private school stated that Rita was not 'academically inclined' to keep up with the work. Rita's grandparents were disappointed that a Temple descendent could not attend the private school like themselves and their daughter. Rita's grandparents were also disappointed that she was not like her cousin who excelled in most of her subjects, especially psychology which she gained the highest score in out of her whole school. All students at the prestigious school were required to achieve an above average score for each of his or her subjects, specialising in at least two of their subjects. Temple family all had great grades and specialised in Maths and English. Rita only had average scores in most of her non-science and non-maths subjects with an occasional B minus in History.

So, therefore, Rita had to attend the only other high school in town, Gotham High, which was located on the other side of where Rita lived, near the Narrows. Throughout her life, there were rumours circulating around Gotham High, claiming that murder, rape, suicide, drug dealings and pornography had occurred in the halls of that school.

Rita wasn't sure if they were true, just that a few terrifying criminals in Gotham had once walked the halls of Gotham High once before as a student, like herself and others.

Rita wasn't as concerned as her parents were about the arrangement. Since the arrival of the mysterious caped vigilante Batman, the whole of Gotham had become somewhat safer, what with the mobs staying in low profile and away from drawing the attention of the Batman. Even the Narrows had become a tad safer though not by much to be considered an improvement in a formal document in the Mayor's office.

Despite reassuring her parents constantly that the school was not as bad as they thought, Rita's parents still argued that she can never academically achieve success there as the student average grade was close to below average. In fact, Rita had found out from her friend that the first person to achieve a high score that would get them accepted into a prestigious university in Gotham High was Edward Nashton from some years ago. He is now residing in that mental asylum, Arkham Asylum.

Rita wasn't sure whether if it was her naïvety, but she couldn't think of any of her classmates or fellow student could ever become a criminal like a hit man for a mob boss (except for those shady characters that hung out near the restrooms with a cigarette hung between their teeth). Rita was not bullied at school nor did she witness any type of bullying, just a few insults here and there but they never resulted in anything. Of course there were cliques, but what kept Gotham High students from rupturing with violence was to stay out of trouble with the more popular or dangerous groups.

Everything was just peachy in Rita's life at the moment as she sat there in her Math class, doodling an unrecognisable picture of her Greyhound, Aero. Aero, despite what everyone's perception of Greyhounds was a bubbly dog who loved to lick just about anyone. Brendon Dawson had a fright when a stray Greyhound ran up to him, thinking he was aggressive, however was surprised when he licked his hands instead. Aero had followed Brendon back home from the chemical plant, his workplace and after long pleas from his daughter to keep him, finally gave in.

'Rita,' her closest friend Lara flicked her drawing hand away. 'Rita, they're calling your name. You have to get to the front office.'

'What for?' Rita closed her books and stacked them onto her arms as she stood up. 'I'm pretty sure I've never been involved in any illicit activities before,' Rita joked.

Lara grinned, 'Of course not, it's more likely its more likely for you to be called up to be congratulated for being the worst student in Math.'

'And they're most likely to call you to the office to congratulate you for being such a Math genius.'

They both bid each other farewells before Rita walked out the door, happy to leave Math class behind. Rita took her time to her locker to grab her belongings before heading over to the front office (no point going back to class with just a little under half an hour left).

'Miss Dawson, you took your time coming over especially on such an urgent matter like this,' the office lady said. 'Your mother arrived here first after the fire.'

Rita panicked. 'What fire? Are my parents okay?'

The lady sighed, 'Yes, yes. Didn't I say that your mother arrived here first? Or did you just assume that a taxi bought an injured woman here instead to a hospital where she should be? I was told your father was at the work place when it happened. Here comes your mom.'

The office lady went inside a room and gestured a person in.

'Mom!' Rita dropped her bag on the ground before running over to envelope her mother in a tight hug.

'Rita, I'm so glad you were at school today, I accidentally left the stove on when I went to grab some eggs at the supermarket. The neighbours noticed smoke rising from the chimney and immediately called the fire department.'

'Does that mean we don't have a home anymore?'

'Let your father and I worry about that, you worry about your education. I've talked to the school and they've allowed you to take a week off so we can settle in a new home.'

Rita was relieved but also sad her house was destroyed. She's lived there her whole life, and...

'-Oh no. What happened to Aero?' An upsetting feeling began bubbling in her abdomen, rising up to her chest. The feeling reminded her of the time she had to present a speech in class, only except the 'sensation' stayed within her abdomen.

'Oh, honey, I think he's been devoured in the fire.'

'I left him outside in the back this morning, do you think he's jumped the fence to escape the fire?'

'Yes, possibly, he is a rather large dog who is fond of heights. We'll return there now to see. Dad will be there soon as well.'

...

When Rita and her mother arrived at the ashen house, they were met with big sloppy licks from Aero who had been sitting patiently on the blackened front porch, awaiting his owners arrival. Rita had been so absorbed in finding out that Aero has survived the fire, she hadn't had a moment to observe the chaos that unfolded on her home.

Looking up, Rita could barely recognise her house, save for the structure, everything was different; the colour and atmosphere was different. Living here was impossible, at least until the remains of her house was scrapped and rebuilt. Even then, it would be impossible; although her family stayed in the 'richer' part of town, they were the poorest out of them all. Rita father spent the majority of his time working at the chemical plant to pay off mortgage and bills, and any other expenses. Rita's parents were not much help, they were both retired and although they had enough money to sustain their living for the next couple years, they refused to partake in their daughter's financial needs. Now Rita is much more mature than before, Rita understood that her living grandparents still held a grudge against her father, and possibly her too because of her for not carrying on the 'academic' genes that commonly ran through her mother's side of the family.

That was why Brendon opposed the idea to live with them when Rachel suggested they go.

Picking up some cans of food, cheap clothing and other necessities from a local supermarket to last at least a week, the Dawson family moved to a place they haven't been to in a while: 67 Elm street.


	3. The Beginning, Part Three

The fact that Rita remembered the golden haired boy from 32 Elm street, a fair walking distance from where her family resided after the fire, was beyond her. She didn't know why the memory was haunting; she should be remembering the happy moments in life such as her birthdays, and even the first time she met her favourite grandparents. Perhaps it was just a little girl's crush, he was the first boy she ever paid her full attention to. Back then none of the boys in her kindergarten ever could hold her attention for more than a second; the boy in 32 Elm street has held her attention for a decade. Her mind didn't constantly refer back to the boy, it was more like the memory was waiting in the back of her head ready to reappear any time. But he couldn't be a crush. Rita didn't look back at the memory with fondness, or blush and feel light-headed.

The boy was just a memory, she thought.

Being alone in her deceased grandparents house had bought up the unwelcome memory. It also made her want to visit the boy, even though he probably moved out a long time ago. It was an urge; not a strong urge, but an urge powered by curiosity. Yes, she knew the saying, that's why she always preferred dogs to cats, although she would really like to own a cute little kitten one day.

Rita sighed. Perhaps she should take a walk. She knew her parents were going to crack it but it was in the middle of the day, and she had no other activities to do other than cleaning, but the state of the shack were so very poor and discouraging.

With her mind decided, Rita hopped up from her makeshift bed. Aero lifted his head up at the movement.

'C'mon, let's go for a walk, Aero,' Rita decided, sliding her arms in red hoodie jacket. At least she'll take a companion with her just in case, although Elm street was practically deserted. She saw no signs of human life in the few days she'd stayed in her deceased grandparent's shack, not even at night time when crime in the Narrows were much more active. It would be okay.

Both her parents were at work, her father picked up extra late hours and won't be coming home so soon, and her mother recently gotten a waitress job at a small pub in the Narrows and won't be back until the 6 o'clock at night. They needed the extra money to buy the small, but decent apartment they found in the newspaper the other day.

Although Rita was not very accomplished at maths, she knew her family will be stuck in this hole for a very long time. She also knew her live grandparents would be scolding her for not properly estimating the time with a calculator and a stack of documents describing her parent's daily income.

Rita lost track of the time, however she knew it was still far before her mother comes back home.

She was walking Aero with a leash (he was not properly trained to walk without one because of his tendency to chase after people and licking their faces as well as to chase after birds, squirrels and other little animals) off-path. They were at some sort of park. It looked like it was going to be a park any ways, before the local government decided to cut funds going towards the Narrows once upon a time. Now it was just a large expanse of land with a small clearing in the middle surrounded by trees, like a forest.

Rita was glad a park bench was placed in the small clearing before the funds were withdrawn, so she could relax her sore legs a little and admire the brown, red and orange colour of the fall season.

She led Aero to the park bench and tied him to a small wooden post that looked sturdy enough to hold a hyper Greyhound.

Unfortunately, Rita's grandparents are going to be disappointed again for misjudging that small wooden post when Aero leaped up and sprinted in the distance, probably after some poor squirrel with the post pulled from the ground, dangling after the dog.

Rita scrambled from the bench towards the direction she'd seen Aero fly off to.

'Aero!' She slowed and tried to listen to the dog's heavy thumps on the crisp leaves.

Then she heard from a not-so-very-far distance, a high-pitched voice, 'Here, doggie woggie! Here, boy. Sh, sh, sh, SH!'

Rita followed the direction of the voice to where a man with greasy dirty blonde hair was kneeling in front of her dog, his back facing her as he whispered something to her dog. His posture seemed tense as his shoulders were slightly hunched. For once, Aero was not attacking a stranger with kisses, however, from what Rita could see was sitting incredibly still, his eyes unmoving from his stare at the stranger in a scared sort of way.

The man, realising another presence stood up facing her. He still had a hand on Aero's lease. The young man quickly pocketed something in his jacket before smoothing his hair back before addressing her, 'Well, hello, beautiful.'

Rita inwardly squealed as she heard the 'compliment'. Her eyes travelled his length starting from his feet. This guy was dressed creepy and... had incredible broad shoulders with a lithe stance, and-

His facial scarring immediately caught her attention, bringing forth an old past time memory of hers.

It was the beaten boy at 32 Elm street! Looks like he still lived here with his terrible father in this terrible neighbourhood.

'Hello? Is anyone in there?' his scars widened as he waved his hand in front of her.

'Oh, hello, sir. Um, thank you for stopping my dog. He usually does this,' Rita quickly said, looking at the ground and towards Aero who still held captive by the young man.

Rita twiddled her fingers together, awaiting the man to hand over the leash.

'What's a gorgeous gal like you doing alone in this little...forsaken hole? Shouldn't you be at home with your 'girlfriends' painting each other's toenails?'

Rita blushed. Rita and Lara were not into those sort of normal 'girl-y' things. Instead they were more into gossiping about those girls who did those things, among other unmentionables.

The man grinned at her reaction.

'Well, any ways, you've... strayed off-path. Shall I escort the little miss back home, eh? I think I ought to; it'd be ungentlemanly of me not to, and I'm anything but ungentlemanly.'

He held out his arm, like a gentleman from 18th century would to a lady, bowing slightly in the process.

Rita was always anxious when interacting with strangers, even more so when said strangers are from the Narrows, however as she looked around she realised he was right; she was completely off-path, couldn't even trace her way back to the small clearing.

She was going to take a huge risk. She would be lucky to come out of this alive. She wholeheartedly hoped so. She took a glance at his eyes, engulfed in them for a second. They were bright without a hint of bad intentions in them, although they were very strange. They were very persuasive eyes. She bet if he was a salesperson, he would be able to charm anyone to purchase his products, especially the females. He was very attractive, despite the pink scars that gave the impression of being poorly sewed closed. She would know, she witnessed the scars when they were fresh. He couldn't be mean-spirited, Rita decided. His father was, but that didn't mean the poor guy was. Despite everyone's claim, not every abused child will become the abuser in the future. They were more likely to become the opposite, she reasoned.

She gulped and took his arm before he withdrew his offer. This guy couldn't possibly be dangerous; he seems like a decent guy helping a young girl in need, Rita thought.

'So, what is a gorgeous gal like you doing out here in the woods? You could get attacked by a big bad wolf, ya know,' the man said licking his lips.

'Please, there are no wolves native to Gotham, it's too polluted here and close to the city.'

As if on queue, a howl sounded in the far distance.

The man raised an eyebrow in question.

Rita blushed, 'That could be just any neighbourhood dog.'

'Well, yes, I...suppose there are plenty of stray mutts... All hungry, prowling for some fresh meat.'

He licked his lips again.

'You take great care of your mutt, he's the healthiest I've seen since... I don't know, forever?'

'Oh, thank you, I've had Aero since he was a pup.'

'Hmm,' he said, observing her up and down.

Rita felt self-conscious of her appearance. 'What?'

'You seem more like a cat-person.'

'Yes, I suppose so, though I like cats and dogs equally. I would like to have a cat one day.'

Silence.

'...what about you? Do have any or want any pets?' Rita struggled to make conversation. He probably thought it was the most boring minutes of his life, talking to her.

'Meow.'

Rita's eyebrows rose in questioning, staring at him.

'Meow,' he said again.

Rita giggled, '...um, pardon?'

'Cat. I wanna big cat one day,' he stated. 'Huge one. A carnivore. Tiger. Or hyena. Either one.'

'Oh, well, I just want a nice Bengal cat.'

Unexpectedly, the man burst out laughing and Rita tried to join in although she didn't know what the joke was. Aero jumped at the sound and looked at the man cautiously. Rita could tell there was something wrong with Aero.

It took them an hour for them to return to the main road. Rita didn't recognise the area, however her 'escort' did and that's all that mattered, although Rita did suspect he took her the long way out of the park, walking the opposite she'd come. Throughout the walk he would regularly joke she would laugh at each and every one of his jokes even though some weren't even that funny, she confessed, but even so, it was nice to socialise with a different person other than her parents and Lara, even if said person gives her the shivers.

Finally Rita could spot a main road ahead and hear the occasion cars zoom by. They were almost out of the place.

'... and we are now officially...out...of...the woods!' the man said after taking the last step out of the park with her.

Rita tried to suppress a giggle. She didn't know why but the handsome man was making her feel all sweaty and... girl-y. Something a boy could never rise in her.

She would have to tell Lara all about this handsome stranger when she got back to school; the old shack didn't have landline and she didn't own a phone.

'Now where is your ah...humble abode, little red riding hood?' he said, eyeing her red hooded jacket. Rita turned red.

'I live on Elm street.'

'Why that's the same as me!' he stated enthusiastically.

'Gosh, we are just so alike!' Rita earnestly mimicked his enthusiasm, even though she knew her personality could never reach the height of his.

The man led her a few blocks away, turning into a few streets to an intersection between the roads she recognised.

'Ta-da! Elm street,' he said in his nasal innocent voice. Rita thought it was rather cute.

She told him she lived at the end of the street, and they both began their descent, her arm wound around his and Aero's leash in his other hand. The man was quite the height. And because of this, sometimes Rita would walk on the tips of her toes to level up with him when he wasn't looking, of course.

When they reached her house, Rita noticed how dark it has become and worried her mother may be back home already. When they arrived at her grandparent's little shack, Rita sneaked a peak at her watch. 5:43. Her mother didn't get off until 6 and even then, it'd take her 10 minutes to catch the bus to here, and another few minutes to walk down to 67 Elm street.

'Well, guess this means good-bye,' he said as they arrived at the porch, he was looking about. Rita doubted he was examining the 'fine' woodwork of the little shack.

'Yeah,' Rita sighed.

He handed her the leash, and Rita took it from his hands, careful to make sure her hand 'accidentally' touched his in the process.

'We'll, if you need anything, I live in number 32.'

Yeah, I know.

Rita smiled, 'Okay.'

He began to walk away but Rita stopped him by placing her hand on his arm. Gosh, they were so lean. He probably worked out.

'Wait,' Rita said hurriedly, 'I didn't catch your name.'

'And nor did I. Call me Jack.'

'I'm Griet, but please, called me Rita.' Inwardly, Rita cursed her father on naming her that out-dated name. Her father's early descendants from his mother's side were of Dutch descent.

'Catch ya later...my little pearl,' he half-giggled, throwing a wink and a smile her way.

'You too,' Rita said, heart thrashing against her chest at the nickname. She watched him turn his back around before shutting the door.

Jack.

It was a simple name, and Rita liked it. Reminded her of her favourite childhood adventure story, Jack and the Beanstalk. She also used to remember him by his hair colour, stating that it reminded her of the goose's golden egg. She realised how pathetic that sounded now. His hair colour had changed. It still had the appearance of not being washed properly with shampoo, however the colour was darker but not dark enough to be able to tell it was blonde.

Rita could hardly wait to tell Lara of the man of mystique who lived in her street.

**Author's notes:**  
**'Griet is pronounced as 'greet' in Dutch, meaning 'pearl'. Should clarify things a little.**


	4. The Beginning, Part Four

Later that night, Rita lay in wake tracing invisible stars above her head.

_...my little pearl._

Rita smiled and snuggled further into her cold blankets.

...

Rita dressed in her most comfortable sweater and jeans before going to the kitchen, a light spring in her steps. She's never been this enthusiastic about going to school. Being exceptionally trash at her subjects has left Rita a bad impression of education. It was just so damn hard!

Rita was surprised to find her mother serving her father a hot cup of coffee and toast.

'Dad! Shouldn't you be at work?' It was weird to find her father home on a working day. Even before the fire, the weekdays were always work days for Brendon, leaving only the weekends free.

'Yes,' her mother replied. 'But your Dad is sick today so he's taking a day off work.'

Her father blew his nose with a napkin.

'Oh, do you have the flu? Why don't we just turn on the heater in the living room? I mean it is chilly in here,' Rita suggested.

'We've tried and it does work, though it makes a weird whirring sound. I just don't want this house to be blown up unexpectedly,' Brendon replies.

'Yes, we'll be saving some money to buy this new portable heater for winter, so in the meantime we'll just have to stick with wearing layers and layers of clothing,' her mother added.

'And curtains,' Rita added.

'What about curtains?' asked her mother.

'Well, having curtains can keep most of the heat in the house while also keeping the cold out,' Rita said, proud that she'd remembered that little fact she'd learnt in a science class in elementary.

'Yes, it does, thank you for reminding me, Rita.'

Rita sat in the seat furthest away from her father; she didn't want to get sick. Rita observed her father as she ate her prepared toast. His once blonde hair had some grey slicks through them from all the stress he's harboured for years. Many people says that she looks more like her mother, she had her brown hair, facial features and height. Rita was proud of this, she has always aspired to look similar to her mother since childhood. Not that she wouldn't mind inheriting her father's blue eyes or his wavy blonde hair.

'So hows work going for you, Dad?' Rita asks, generally interested. She hadn't heard much from his work. It was weird to not have any news as something always went wrong at the chemical plant, such as a chemical spill in the labs, someone injuring themselves.

'Hmm, well, from what I hear at work, there is a new employee. My other colleagues who have contact with him says he's a scary guy and a bit on the arrogant side. But I think he's a good addition to our workplace, I mean with his wide knowledge of chemical safety, he's halved the amount of accidents in the workplace.'

'That's good news, honey,' Rita's mother says, 'then we won't have to worry about you injuring yourself.' Rachel ducked down to plant small kisses to her husband's lips.

Rita smiled at her parent's affection for each other. She was so lucky to have great parents who loved each other, through thick and thin. Rita wished she too could experience what her parents have with a boy one day.

'I'm going to school, bye,' Rita said, grabbing her toast and exiting the kitchen before she could witness more of her parents 'love show'.

...

'-wait, so let me get this straight. You let a stranger take you home?'

'Yes,' Rita said impatiently. 'Now shush, the teacher's looking our way.'

Rita and Lara both pretended to do work when the teacher glanced their way. When their Literature teacher looked away, they continued chatting.

'Rita, I don't think you understand how dangerous this is. He could be a paedophile, rapist, murderer. He could be one of those criminals who kidnap girls and turn them into sex slaves! And you're saying you lead him to your house! He knows where you live!' Rita's best friend, Lara whispered harshly.

'He's not like that. If he wanted to rape, murder or kidnap me, wouldn't he have already done that in the park? I mean he had the perfect opportunity to do so, what with nobody being around. I mean, throughout the entire walk, Jack's been a gentleman,' Rita retaliated.

'Oh God! You're on a first name basis, aren't you? What if he's just playing it slow to bait you? What if he's just one of those jerks who just want to get into your pants? I mean, do you remember this girl in school who got pregnant by her 20 something year old boyfriend? She fell into depression and lost her baby when he left her.'

'Lara, please, you know me. I'm not like that. I know my limits, okay. Wear a condom when having sex-no exception,' Rita said, rolling her eyes, knowing that her friend knew that her sex life was non-existent. She hasn't even had a first kiss yet.

'Okay, but seriously, you should really get a phone. I mean, I totally would've come over to the Narrows as soon as you called me about the fire. I am your best friend, Rita.'

'Yes, I know, I really should get a phone, especially now that I live over there.'

'Yeah, so ask your parents again, or ask your grandparents. They're like rich and all. I'm sure they're willing to spare you some change. Besides, you can get a job, like me.'

'You do realise that I'll need a phone to get a job. I mean, how will they contact me otherwise?' Rita sighed. 'I'm just so freaking behind. Everyone's got a phone, everyone's got a social life, everyone's got a job, a boyfriend or girlfriend. I'm far behind, and I'm going to continue to fall behind.'

...

On the way home from school, Rita stopped by a home bakery near the school to purchase something for Jack as a thank you gift for yesterday's help. Rita tried to avoid eye contact with other students at Gotham High who were buying all sorts of desserts. Rita wished she too could buy dozens of pretzels, jam doughnuts, custards and other delicious delicacies everyday after school. Though sometimes when Rita was given spare change, she would often choose to buy her favourite dessert, pecan tart, however today, her money was intended to buy a thank you gift for Jack for yesterday's help.

Rita skimmed over the prices of each desserts laid out before her, groaning at the high prices of some of them. Rita wished she could grab the dark chocolate cake as Jack seemed like the type to enjoy such a dark, bitter, smooth-textured delicacy. He also seemed to eat chocolate regularly, Rita concluded, his teeth were stained yellow.

Not wanting to stay any longer looking at the pecan tarts, Rita grabbed the zucchini bread she'd been contemplating on purchasing a few minutes back and paid for it at the counter.

...

The bus stopped near the corner connecting Elm street and the main road. Thanking the bus driver, Rita hopped off, glad that other students from her school didn't live near her area, and thus did not take the same bus as her.

Walking past the dirt covered pavement to Jack's place, Rita tried to ignore the uneasiness when she walked past the direct place where Jack's father beat him. Arriving at the front of the beaten door (it appeared Jack had taken out the wooden planks), opened her backpack, ripped off the price tag of the bread, leaving it in only its plastic wrap. Rita didn't want Jack to know she'd bought it from a bakery.

Rita knocked on the door. Hearing no movement inside the shack to indicate Jack was home, Rita knocked harder and louder this time.

And again.

And again.

Dejectedly, Rita sighed, placing the zucchini bread back into her backpack. She should have considered the possibility that Jack wasn't home. Perhaps she'll come back in an hour, or wait on his front porch.

A sudden bang! from inside the shack caused Rita to jump in fright. What was going on in there?

The sound, resembling an explosion, came from behind the Jack's place.

Perhaps he was home, Rita thought.

Rita walked behind the house to investigate. There was nothing but dry land at the back with a few misplaced objects that belonged in the kitchen. Not even weeds could grow here, given the state of the garden.

Accidentally kicking a rusted tin can with her right foot, the tin can crashed in with the other unused pots and pans, causing loud noises. Rita froze at the disturbance, waiting for the clanging to cease. Rita, scared out of her wits, decided to go back home, deciding she's caused too much snooping today. She can thank Jack for his help some other day.

Turning around the corner of the house, Rita was immediately met with a sharp edge digging deep into her neck and a tight grasp on her shoulder. Rita's breathing turned shallow and her body posture turned rigid. If not for the hand that held her back, Rita was sure she would've walked into the blade, slicing herself. The scent of various chemicals and smoke assaulted her nose.

The knife was withdrawn afterwards. Rita turned around to see her attacker.

'Jack!'

'Oh, hey, sweetheart.' Rita watched fearfully at the knife in his skilful hand before he withdrew them, placing the knife back into his pockets.

'I didn't mean to scare ya, its just that ol' Jack here doesn't like intruders in his property,' he said casually, like pulling a knife on her wasn't a big deal.

'You pulled a knife on me,' Rita exclaimed.

'Yeah, well, you can't be too careful. I've had a few drunken morons come over my place, graffiti my beautiful garden and when I try to confront them, they threaten me with a broken beer bottle,' Jack shrugged indifferently.

Living in the scummiest part of Gotham, encountering dangerous muggers and drunks were uncommon. Perhaps Rita was overreacting. Jack was just defending himself.

Rita tried to relax her shoulders. 'I'm sorry, I guess I shouldn't have snooped around your house.'

'You're forgiven, but don't ever come 'round the back, okay?'

'Alright, Jack, I won't ever again,' Rita promised.

'Well, with that settled... Would you like to have a 'tea-party'? With me?'

'I would love to, Jack.' To Rita, it was like he was asking her out on a date.

'Superb! Now, I don't have tea or coffee, but I do have a half-full bottle of Jack Daniels,' Jack said enthusiastically. 'Now step over here, into this window. The front and back door's are kinda facing technicalities right now.' Jack lead her over to the open window, where she assumed he came out from. Rita found herself smiling as she watched him swiftly used his long legs to step into the window.

She put a leg through the window and accepted Jack's helping hand to pull her body up into the window. She appeared to be in a medium-sized bare bedroom. An unmade old metal bed with thin blankets was pushed into the corner of the room, a small empty desk with a lamp was on the opposite side. Other than a few scrunched up papers and yellowed books strewn on the dirty grey carpet ground, there didn't seem to be anything else in the room, not even a closet.

'This is it. Casa de Jack. Here, have a seat on my bed.' Jack guided her to bed and pushing her down, causing the springs to squeak as she sat. 'I'll be back with my good ol' friend, Daniel.'

Rita fiddled with the edge of her sweater as she realized she was sitting on a man's bed, in a man's house. She was going to have exciting news to tell Lara tomorrow.

Jack came back with a promised half-bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey and two glasses.

'Unfortunately, I don't have cupcakes. I don't have a taste for them.'

'Oh, that's alright. I bought you something today,' she bought out the zucchini bread. 'You know, as a thank you for helping me out the yesterday.'

'Why thank you, little pearl,' Jack flashed her a grin and took the bread. Rita brightened at the nickname. She loved it.

He jumped onto the bed, causing the springs to squeak loudly and the bed to creek at the weight. Sitting cross-legged opposite her, Jack handed her a glass, pouring whiskey into hers first, then his next.

'Well, cheers to us, little pearl.' Jack downed the whole content.

Rita glanced at the glass in her hand hesitantly before taking a little sip. The liquid burned her throat, burning her body wherever it travelled.

'Ahh. I love the burn of whiskey, reaches to me where nothing has ever reached. It's delightful.' He glanced at Rita's full glass. 'What's the matter? Ya don't drink?'

Rita shook her head and handed her glass back to Jack.

'Thanks.' He grabbed her glass and downed it. 'Oh, yeah! Feel that burn!'

'Ya know, you're not like other girls.'

'I'm not?'

'No. I remember... the girls I use to bring home would come for a bottle of scotch or whiskey,' he licked his lips. 'without telling their parents. They were naughty. But, you,' he pointed at her. 'you're a good girl. And I like good girls. The...bad ones, they only came for the fun, so I guess I'm a fun guy.' Some of his words were slurred, though his eyes staring intently at hers as he sipped directly from the bottle now suggested that he was not drunk yet.

Rita felt a surge of jealousy wash over her body. She was jealous of other teenage girls had been sharing time with even though it happened in the past. Jack probably had a more fun time with them than with her, Rita thought. They probably shared the alcohol bottle, taking turns sipping, laughing at each other's jokes, kissing, having a fun time.

They were silent for the next few moments. The only sounds were from Jack sipping whiskey from the bottle and Rita's twiddling fingers. She glanced at him a few times, wondering what else to say to extend the conversation, however every glance at Jack has caused her to forget. His eyes were always trained on her as he sipped from the bottle, almost like he was observing her every move and knowing how nervous she was. If so, Rita would be greatly embarrassed that Jack realises the effect he had on a mere undeveloped hopeless girl.

'Ya know, I've never told anyone this, kid, but I use to be a comedian.'

Rita was surprised. The occupation however suited him, though, Rita thought. A comedian would have to have incredible energy and charisma, like Jack. 'Really? Can I hear a joke?'

'Well, sure,' he shrugged his shoulders. 'Hmm... okay, here we go. What's the difference between bird flu and swine flu?' he paused for effect. 'If you have bird flu, you need tweet-ment. And if you have swine flu, you need oink-ment.'

A laugh erupted from Rita's lips. Jack was just too damn cute.

His grinned, causing his scars to stretch.

'You're so funny, Jack,' she giggled, then accidentally added, 'and adorable.' When she realised this, Rita quieted and turned red.

'Why, thank you, beautiful,' he said, lightly twirling his curls playfully in a school-girl manner. He leaned in close, blowing air to her face. The scent of alcohol in his breath assaulted her nostrils, and surprisingly she wasn't repulsed by it.

She inadvertently leaned closer, staring into his eyes. He licked his lips. She could make the first move and kiss him.

Something was then shoved in between their faces.

'Want some?' Jack said twirling the zucchini bread around in his free palm.

'Oh...um, no thank you, it was meant for you,' Rita said shyly.

Jack shrugged then unwrapped the zucchini bread and began to munch on it, taking impossibly huge bites. Rita watched as he took less than a few minutes eating the whole bread, uncaring of the mess of crumbs he's made on the bed. He was a messy eater, Rita noted.

Rita glanced at her watch and regretted to break the wonderful moment. 'Well, its getting late. I have to go home soon.'

'You're right. Well, thanks for the, uh, delicious nourishment.'

He jumped out the window before helping her out. He walked her out to the front of the house and past a few houses before Rita touched his arm to stop him.

'I can walk home from here.'

Rita contemplated what she was about to do before she quickly leaned up and pecked him on the cheek before she lost the opportunity, however due to his majestic height, her lips didn't reach his cheek and the kiss was planted below his jawline instead. She felt his breathing still for a second when her lips lightly brushed against his neck.

'Thank you for today,' Rita thanked him.

'You're welcome, little pearl. We should have frequent tea-parties, like this, and next time I'll bring a few other friends over, Dr. Pepper and Mello Yello.'

Rita giggled, 'I would like that.'

They both said their good-byes and parted ways, Rita, unwillingly. Rita was disappointed when she turned around to face where they'd parted, finding it empty. Nonetheless, Rita had enjoyed her time with Jack. Their little hangout made Rita feel a sensation she hasn't felt for a very long time.

**Author's Note:  
Hello, readers! ****Hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
I didn't make up that little joke, by the way. I found it one day while streaming online.**


	5. The Beginning, Part Five

In the next few days, Rita was still living on the excitement from her 'tea party' with Jack, impatiently anticipating their next hangout. Lara immediately knew something was up with her friend. Rita now always had a smile on her face and a small glimmer in her eyes. Her teachers were also suspiciously eyeing the cheery teen, questioning to themselves, isn't she supposed to be sad? Her house burned down just about a week ago and she's now living in the Narrows.

When Rita informed her friend, Lara was horrified that she'd spent time at that creepy man's house and throughout the day, she endlessly persuaded her friend to stop their private meetings, and of course, Rita retaliated and defended Jack.

However, over the course of the next few days, the giddy, excited sensation Rita in the pit of her stomach had disappeared. The glimmer died in her eyes and her smile sank to a straight line. Lara, of course, was pleased to find out that Rita hasn't had contact with the man, though she did grow worried at her best friend's state and would occasionally throughout the days would suggest Rita to take the day off school.

Rita's mood sunk even further when she found out her history test score and received a mark below her average. History being her strongest subject, Rita thought she could approach a career in history; she could work in a museum or become a history teacher. Now, looking at the red D scribbled across the top of her test, she felt like her aspirations have been crushed. Since the start of the year, Rita's grades had been failing beneath the average scores she usually expected in previous years. She wasn't so excited about high school any more like before, always giggling and making meaningless goals to become most fashionably dressed girl in high school with her former friend Heidi whom she had no contact with any more since her move to Gotham High.

If she'd had a phone, they'd still be in contact. She would also be in contact with Jack, texting or calling him any time.

Rita enviously glared at her friend beside her who was most likely texting her parents of her excellent scores.

...

Rita sighed as she walked by the house at 32 Elm street, gazing at the lone pent-up shack where Jack lived longingly. She slowed down her pace as she walked past the house. She didn't want to come to a complete stop in case passer-bys although non-existent in this neighbourhood would think she was weird or if Jack suddenly comes out and spots her, thinking she's a stalker freak.

She wondered what Jack was doing right now and whether she was on his mind just as he was on hers. Rita shook her head dejectedly. Of course he wouldn't think of her that way. She was a mousy undeveloped girl who's still in her first year of high school, failing all her subject. Besides he never gave her the impression that he liked her _that_ way. Except for when he mentions that affectionate nickname he gave her. She liked the way it came out of his chapped lips (due to always licking his lips); his voice texture was amazing and not at all creepy like Lara had thought when she'd described it to her.

She wished she could see him again. Just a glimpse of his strong defining stature from the window. Rita sighed again and continued walking, quickening her pace.

Entering her home, Aero trudged happily over to her to welcome her back as he routinely did for the past years the Dawson's had him. Rita petted him as he attempted to lick her hand, tail wagging. She realises that she's been neglecting him from her attention for a small while since she'd met Jack, the last walk she'd taken him on was the day she'd met Jack in the woods. Now that the subject has been bought up, Rita wondered why Jack had been there in the first place. She didn't dwell on the thought any longer when her stomach began to grumble loudly. Aero looks up at her questioningly. Rita chuckled lightly at his dumbfounded expression and went to make herself a sandwich before she starved to death.

Finishing up her sandwich, she cleaned up her mess and was prepared to take a shower when she was interrupted. Rita turned stone cold when she heard rattling at the front door. It must be a stranger. Rita wasn't expecting anyone over, especially not her parents who both worked long hours and came home until much later. Aero, who was sitting beside his carer, perked his ears slightly but otherwise didn't react any further. Greyhounds were not aggressive to strangers and were rather quiet dogs. Rita quickly searched and grabbed without thinking the closest weapon to her: a butter knife. Aero watched as Rita quietly stepped around her chair and hid herself behind the fridge, prepared to bolt through the back door of the house. She motioned for Aero to come over which he complied, seating himself beside Rita's hunched form.

Rita peeked from behind the refrigerator as the intruder picked at the lock, twisting the door knob to get in successfully. Rita panicked, and in the heat of things she bolted out the back door along with Aero who was being held by the collar. Rita sprinted across the small backyard, Aero having no choice, followed his owner. Rita wanted to lose her self in the nearby woods to make herself and Aero unseen by the intruder, who would most likely come after them upon discovering the back door of the house open.

Rita skittered through the dry trees, which was difficult considering that she was holding onto Aero's collar. If she let go of his collar Aero might sprint off somewhere at the sight of a squirrel in the woods, and she would not be able to catch him as greyhounds were exceptional sprinters, nearly being able to sprint up to the speed of a horse. It was inconvenient to do so, however Rita would rather risk it slowing them down than to lose Aero again. Besides, Jack wasn't going to be in the woods to capture Aero again as he had done when they'd first met.

They came to a stop at a small clearing, Rita recognised the same bench she'd sat upon the other week and the wooden post she'd tried to secure Aero to. Slumping down on the bench in exhaustion, Rita regained her breath after her physical workout, thankful she'd managed to gulf down the sandwich for the extra energy her body so needed.

She could only vaguely remember the direction she'd come from the other day, the vivid memory of her meeting Jack seemed overshadow her sense of direction. She wanted to go home to safety before the sun went down, however was hesitant in case the intruder was still at her house. And how will her mom react when she finds the house robbed? Granted there was nothing valuable in the house except for the electrical appliances, and even those were old but well cared for by her family, mostly because of her mother who always chastised Rita and her dad for slamming or mishandling the appliances. Just then, Rita realised another important detail; her mother might come home during the robbery!

At a time like this, Rita really wished she owned a phone.

Jack's place, Rita realised. She could get help from Jack, she just had to remember the way out of this place first. After regaining some energy, Rita stood up, still holding the butter knife and lead Aero in the direction where there was a small visible dirt path that lead, hopefully to the main roads, her heart sinking an inch downwards with each step she took and each possibility of how future events will play out.

At this point Rita was hyperventilating, the sky was darkening much too quick for her liking. That was why she was more than relieved to find she'd gone in the right direction when she saw the road come to view. Rita sighed in relief and promised to herself she wouldn't ever stray off road, especially in the Narrows!

Rita successfully navigated herself and Aero through the streets towards the Jack's house. Rita trudged hurriedly trudged up the steps to front door before remembering that the front door was currently facing 'technicalities'. Instead Rita led Aero to the side of the house to knock on the window where she'd first entered Jack's house.

Not long later, Jack's window opened, surprised to find her there.

'Hi, kiddo. Miss me already?' he grinned, showing off his stained teeth. Yes, Rita inwardly said to herself swooning at the sight of him. 'You gonna put away that butter knife? I don't take too kindly with intimidations. Especially from good girls like you. Makes me feel like a bad _wolf_.'

Rita blushed a bright pink and dug the knife into her pocket. Aero beside her whined a little and sank to the ground and Jack's smile widened. Rita wished she could continue to observe him; she could do so for hours... If only she'd had a photo of him. Today he was wearing a dirty white button up shirt that looked to have been scrunched up and used to wipe the kitchen floor. Now that he had his huge coat off, Rita could see how fine he looked. His sleeves where rolled up, showing off his toned masculine forearms, though not overly unattractively muscular like those boxers or wrestlers had. Rita wished right then she could feel it and squeeze it in both her hands to feel how strong they were. If his forearms could get her to feel this way, she wondered how sexy his whole arms revealed would look.

'Hel-looO?' Jack sang out. He crossed his arms on the windowsill and leaned towards her, up close to her face. Rita blushed at his close proximity. She missed him so much. She could see every single detail of his face clearly, including every little bump and curve of his scars. Most girls, namely her friend Lara, might find them...monstrous, however, Rita found them to be quite pleasant in a scary sort of way. She wanted, at that instant to run her fingers on his scars. She wished to caress them.

She wished she was more confident and self-assured so she could just grab him forward and smother him with her smooches.

'Jack, I need help, immediately!'

Jack narrowed his eyes seriously, the fun gone from his face. He could tell Rita was indeed in some sort of trouble. Her eyes held a slight frantic look and her cheeks were stained a pleasant pink. Very pleasant indeed. He hoped this urgent matter involved a little knife-to-knife action. His hand has been begging to stab someone lately.

'Come through the back door,' Jack said before withdrawing from the window and shutting it.

Rita led Aero to the back door where Jack was already there, opening the back door, which he must've fixed earlier for it to be swinging wide open without a problem.

'The mutt stays outside,' Jack stated abruptly. Rita looked at Aero, biting her lips, then decided to leave him outside.

'Stay,' Rita commanded to Aero. Hopefully Jack's 'beautiful garden' didn't harbour any small animals scurrying around, otherwise she'd be in trouble. Rita walked past Jack to go inside. Jack shut the door behind them before shuffling closer behind her.

The place was bare with a little bit of furniture here and there, just as his bedroom had been. Jack's house wasn't well lit, however Rita could still be able to see the griminess of the worn out carpet. He probably didn't vacuum. There was also a strange smell in the vicinity. It almost smelt like the chemistry lab at school, except worse. Rita was careful not to wrinkle her nose at the potency of the in case Jack thought she was being rude. Besides, Rita kind of found she didn't mind the scent. The scent funnily reminded her of a small aspect of Jack's peculiar scent, except intensified.

Jack guided her over to a small open area where a ratty old couch that looked to have been picked up from the side walks of a random street in the Narrows looks to have been dumped in front of the old television box. No decorations or pictures were present; not even a photo of his father. Then again why would Jack keep a picture of his abusive father, Rita realised stupidly. She vaguely remembered his father. He was a tall strong figure though she never could recall his face, only Jack's. He was the only one that stood out. Jack had the same large build as his father, though looking at him now, he had a sort of grace to his stature. Definitely not a feminine grace; Jack was the manliest guy she's ever encountered. Rita guessed his 'grace' must've been due to his slimmer build. He must've gotten it from his mother. Rita would have loved to see his mother's photo.

Jack dropped himself on the damaged couch, resting his arms on the top, inviting her over. Unable to resist the invite despite the trashy state of his couch, Rita copied him and dropped down on the couch, shifting closer to Jack. She could smell him. Intoxicating. Literally and figuratively.

'So, tell me, little one, what's wrong?' he asked licking his lips.

'Someone broke into my house. I was so scared I escaped through the back door,' Rita said, wishing he'd bring her into his arms. And he did.

'Oh, my poor little _pearl_!' He used his arm resting behind her head on the couch to gather her into him. Rita's heart sang when her head was cradled to his chest, his hands smoothing over her shoulder, arm and back in a calming manner. Her eyes were wide and alert, she wished this moment would never end. He rested his chin on her head. She thought she could die.

She didn't know where to place her hands so kept them rigid on her lap, awaiting his next move.

'Say, why don't I just trudge over there and knock him on the head? He'll be out fast like a pirate with a barrel full of rum,' Jack suggested and loosened his hold on her so he could see beyond the top of her head.

Rita laughed and kept close to Jack. 'Oh Jack, you're such a _joker_!'

'A joker,' Jack paused and Rita was worried she might have upset him somehow. 'Yeah, you're right, Rita, I'm such a _joker_. I'll trudge over your place immediately and stop this goon _clowning around_.' His fingers on his right hand started to twitch a little.

Rita didn't notice and giggled at his joke. She hadn't said anything wrong. She kept herself glued to his chest and timidly wrapped her arms around his torso. She felt the muscles on his stomach stiffen at her intrusion before relaxing although still remaining tense at the same time. It seemed Jack didn't mind as his arm returned around her, resting against her middle. Rita's body ached at the uncomfortable angle and Jack's heavy arm, however she didn't want to shift in case Jack got the impression she that she'd had enough of hugging. Like she ever would have enough of him. She wanted something more, but just hugging Jack was enough for now. She never wanted to let go.

**Author's Note:**

**Hey guys, I was really excited for this chapter. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I might not be updating soon; so enjoy and savour this chapter 'cause this weeks going to be hectic for me!**

**Any ways, want to know an interesting fact? I'm writing this like the Joker. I don't make plans in each chapter. And I certainly didn't create a bigger definite plan for the whole story. Like that last bit about the 'joker' reference, that came up along the way I was writing. Cool, huh?**

**Hope you guys enjoyed the little snippets of Jack's mind, and as you can tell poor Rita is slipping further and further down the 'slope' (Hint, hint).**


	6. The Beginning, Part Six

They stayed longer at Jack's house than Rita anticipated. Straight after her plea for Jack's help, they embraced each other, remaining like that for an indefinite number of minutes. During the hugging session, Rita's mind blanked out from any thought of the burglary. She couldn't even make out a single statement in her mind! Though her mind was blank, Rita envisioned her sub-conscious thoughts were invaded by Jack. Just Jack.

Rita realised she must have been daydreaming as her attention was captured instantly when she heard and felt a low grumble and vibration from Jack. She glanced up at Jack from where she was rested. Jack merely chuckled.

'Come on, little pearl,' he-unfortunately-let his arms around Rita drop.

'I'm hun-gry. I guess it's time to feed the hungry wolf,' he said patting his growling stomach.

Rita unbound her aching arms around his torso. Her arms were quite sore, which made Rita wonder how long they remained like that. Rita's back cracked when she sat up straight. Probably for a long while.

'I hope I find a nice, pork belly in the fridge, or a half-eaten turkey sandwich-it would make my day.' Jack scurried off on quick feet to the kitchen, leaving Rita alone. He probably haven't had a proper dish for ages. She'd witnessed the rate in which he consumed the zucchini bread the week before; he ate like a starved wolf. And from the dirty state of his house, he probably didn't know how to maintain a clean household. On her family's arrival day in her grandparent's house, Rita's mother had ordered Rita and her father to start cleaning the place as spotless as it can be, cleansing the place of dust, cobwebs, spiders, rats and any other pests. Her mother was prepared, she'd bought tonnes of toxins for the rodents and cleaning agents. In the next few days, Rachel turned the haunted-looking shack to a clean decent but still low-class house. Rita thought perhaps her mother couldn't bare living in such a poor state, considering she's lived in a nice rich and overly decent house since she was raised. On the other hand, Rita's father concentrated more on the stability of the house. The first thing he did was fix and oil the front and back door. His main priority was to make sure his family were properly housed. Though the cleanliness was much appreciated. As for Rita, she didn't mind if the house had a slight covering of dust on the windowsill, as long as there were no rodents or spiders.

For Jack, it seemed like he didn't have a clue what a vacuum or air freshener was and Rita was scared if she looked behind the blinds or behind the television stand to find a giant spider looking for the perfect corner to lay its eggs, creating thousands more of themselves.

On a different scale, perhaps Jack was more like her father who prioritised fixing the house before cleaning. It must be true. Jack did solve his back door problem.

Jack returned to the living room, whistling an imprecise tune Rita didn't recognise. He was such a jovial man. Jack leaned against the arm of the couch, causing the couch to creek at his weight. In his hand was a nice healthy-looking apple. It was the first and probably only polished thing she'd seen in Jack's house.

'Unfortunately, there wasn't a pork belly in sight... or a turkey sandwich. Guess those happenings only occur once in a blue moon,' he frowned, shrugging his shoulders. 'Though I did find this precious,' he said, waving the green shiny apple around. He bit into the juicy apple causing some of its juice to be squirted onto Rita's face. Jack chewed loudly, grinning at Rita.

He finished the apple and chucked the core behind his shoulder. 'Mm, mm, mm! That was deliciously refreshing! A wolf could become a herbivore on these granny smiths.' Jack grinned wider when a giggle erupted from Rita. 'Ya know, you're the only one who ever laughs at my jokes. You're my number one fan.'

'Oh Jack, I promise I'll forever be your number one fan,' Rita declared. Though I'd like to be more.

'Well then, let's go confront this goon. I'll bring my trusty crowbar,' Jack said, excitedly and paced off with a slight spring on his step. He was unusually happy and Rita did not know why. Anxiety was still gnawing at her insides at the thought of her mother being attacked by the intruder. Hugging Jack had made it temporarily disappear.

She waited in anticipation for Jack to come back, tapping her fingers on the couch arm.

When he re-entered the living room, he motioned her over with his arm. In one hand, he held a crow bar. Jack looked like he was going to war, though his face feigned seriousness, almost like he was trying stop a smile from arising. Rita quietly followed behind and grabbed Aero's collar as they passed through the back door.

Jack walked a brisk pace towards 67, and Rita struggled to keep up with his long legs, occasionally having to jog. She wanted to hold Jack's free hand. She stared at it contemplating whether to just grab it, however before she decided to she walked straight into Jack. They've arrived at her house already.

She glanced from behind Jack, noting that her house didn't seem disturbed or didn't display the signs of a forced break-in. Then again, the burglar swiftly pick-locked the door. Jack crept stealthily to the side of house to Rita's bedroom window. Rita scurried after Jack, trying to be as quiet as possible. This time Rita was nervous and curled her arm around Jack's lean arm just as he was about to lift open her bedroom window.

'Uh, little pearl? I'm gonna need this arm to do the job correctly.'

'Oh, sorry.' Embarrassed, Rita let go. Aero whined a little, he was probably getting hungry.

Jack successfully opened the window and slid it open. He climbed through the window just as he'd done so the previous week through his own. As soon as he disappeared into the window completely, Rita wanted to follow him inside however was unsure how get Aero inside. She could lift a leg over the other side of the window and lift herself up but it was impossible to lift a large full grown dog into the window. Rita stood there unable to move.

Just as soon as she had been contemplating her situation, she heard sounds of struggle from behind the house and the slamming of the back door against the wood. It must be Jack and the intruder. Rita's heart quickened its beat, blood rushed through her. She let go of Aero's collar and rushed to the back.

Jack's back was facing her and holding the intruder in a head-lock with a weapon to his throat it seemed. The crow bar was no where in sight. The intruder was struggling violently, almost thrashing around however Jack had a tight hold the intruder. Jack was the strongest of the two. He barely budged from his hold and the burglar quickly lost energy.

Jack suddenly sensing Rita was behind, turned around, revealing the burglar.

'Is this the goon? Seems too weak and inexperienced. Was just relaxing on the couch, feet up and drinking some fine Jimmy when I found him... I mean_ her_,' Jack said looking at Rita.

Rita gasped. Jack was holding her mother in a headlock, her face turning red and her brown parted hair was dishevelled from his tight hold.

'Jack, that's my mom!'

Jack loosened his hold on Rachel. Rita's mother took advantage of the opportunity and elbowed Jack harshly against his chest, knocking him out of breath for a short while. However before he could regain himself, Rita's mother had broken hold from his and rushed to Rita.

'Rita, where have you been?'

Rita was silent, astounded by recent events and how they turned out.

'Never mind, go inside, lock the doors and call the police!' Her mother rushed and pushed Rita in the direction of the door.

'But Mom, Jack was only trying to help me.'

Jack had fully recovered by then, though he was sure that he'd find a large blue circle on his chest tonight.

'She's right, Missus Dawson. It was really my bad. I've been less than gentlemanly,' Jack said innocently, batting his eyelashes like a school girl.

Rita felt like fainting. Rachel was unfazed by his display of innocence. In honest truth, it sickened her that this...clown with the ugly scars thought could charm her; she saw right through his act. She knew his type. Rachel knew she was stereotyping, but she'd gathered more than enough information to claim what kind of guy he was since he had broken into her house and assaulted her in front of her daughter. He was the type to become a serial murderer having a no sense of common morals, morals that held this city from collapsing. He was the type to destroy this city, her mother and father strictly taught her.

'Get inside, quickly!' Rachel draggedRita inside the house and locked the door. Jack stood where he was before. Rita glanced over her shoulder and smiled lightly in apology. Jack just winked at her, amused at the situation he was in.

Rita's mother rushed everywhere throughout the house, locking all doors and windows that haven't been locked before while Rita stayed by the old screen door.

'Well that was fun,' Jack said.

Rita giggled at their situation. Separated by a thin old screen door. Jack could easily slash through it with his knife and step inside.

'Oh, Jack, I'm sorry about my mom and I'm sorry I dragged you here for nothing.'

'Nah, it was fun. I haven't had that much fun since high school... with you I feel like there is loads more fun waiting for me!'

Rita felt like she could fly. He thought she was fun.

Jack almost grinned when he saw her eyes soften at his 'confession'. It was just too easy. Bat my eyelashes, do a little twirl and bam!

'Oh, and I'll really appreciate it if you make sure your mother doesn't call the police.'

'Of course, Jack.'

'Because ol' Jack here was only trying to help his little pearl. He's had trouble with the cops before and they wouldn't hesitate to send him away.'

'I'll try my best, Jack, I don't want you to go away.'

'Rita, get away from there!' Rita's Mom had finished her round of inspection and grabbed her daughter's arm dragging her away from the man's sight.

Before her mother could take her completely out of view from Jack, Rita turned around and did something she never thought she'd never have the confidence to do: she blew him a kiss. Lara will be so proud of her act of confidence, but this time Rita won't be telling Lara about her after school specials. She could sense that Lara strongly disapproved Jack and wouldn't hesitate to call the police on him. She would lie about her relationship with Jack.

Jack smirked and waved his hand playfully. The darkening sky only allowed Rita to see his crooked smile on his face before he walked away.

...

'Rita, I'm going to call the police,' Rachel said sternly at her daughter.

'Mom, please, just hear me out,' Rita pleaded.

'I'm listening,' Rita's mother said though she didn't stop rummaging through her working bag for her phone.

'The reason why I wasn't home was because I thought you were a burglar, I wasn't expecting you to come home so soon. So I left and went to find help.'

'And you went to that man, why? You could've just called the police.' Rita's mother found the phone.

Rita grabbed her mother's wrist to prevent her from dialling 911. Her mother glanced at her with hard eyes. Rita has never defied her parents before. 'Mom, he's to be trusted,' then Rita sighed. 'I know he looks like those dangerous guys who work for the mob, but looks are deceiving. He's really-' Rita's mind narrowed to the day Jack placed a a knife to her throat, '-um, he means no harm.'

'Rita, let go of my wrist. That man-monster-is not harmless. Let go so I can call the police.'

Rita's hold on her mother's wrist tightened and Rachel inhaled at the strength. Rita felt irritated at her mother. She tried to explain Jack's situation to her mother but she-just-wouldn't-_listen_.

'Rita. Let go now,' Rita's mother commanded, her eyes narrow. But Rita didn't give any indication of releasing her mother's wrist. She just didn't _understand_. Rita's mother gave a surge of power and tried to pry her daughter's fingers off her hurting wrist. Rachel had taken Rita off-guard. With all Rita's strength tried to keep her hold on her mother's wrist to no avail. She was no Jack. Rachel successfully pried Rita's fingers from her wrist. However, Rita had found a new objective and grabbed her mother's phone from her feeble fingers and threw it from her reach. The phone connected to the window and fell down in two pieces. It was broken. The window had a small crack.

Rita's mother stopped her thrashing and glanced at the broken phone in surprise.

Rita suddenly straightened and walked off. Just before she rounded the corner Rita called out to her mother, 'You forgot, Mom, I don't own a phone.'

...

Rita almost knew what her mother would say if she walked out her bedroom. _Really, Rita? This again? The phone issue? _That was why Rita remained in bed, even forgoing a snack when her tummy grumbled. Rita thought back to the fight. She shouldn't have thrown her mother's phone. She'd not only costed her family a broken phone but a broken window as well. It was reckless of her to do so. It was the first of the few fights with her mother that ended up in a physical struggle.

Perhaps she should just apologise.

Rita quietly exited her bedroom, careful not to make the old door squeak. Rita hid behind the wall as she found her mother sitting against the couch on the bare ground, swigging from a bottle of whiskey Rita wasn't aware her family owned. Rita's mother stared mindlessly at the white walls ahead of her. Her mother's heavy coat was off and Rita could see dark blue and purple marks on her mother's arms.

'Mom.' It came out as a whisper nonetheless, Rachel had heard and her eyes travelled to meet her daughter's.

Rita rushed over to her mother, sitting down next to her despite the ground being hard and so cold. Rita wrapped her arms around her mother as her mother put down the bottle and hugged her as well.

'I'm so sorry, Mom,' Rita cried. 'I didn't know he hurt you.'

'That man didn't hurt me.'

Rita was relieved because she didn't want to confront Jack about it. She knew he was a gentleman, just as he'd always mentioned he was.

'He just threatened me with that crow bar over there,' Rachel pointed to the corner where Jack's 'trusty' crow bar had been thrown, leaving a medium-sized dent in the wall. Rita didn't released it before because she was so absorbed in the fight. Maybe Jack wasn't the gentleman he thought he was.

'...then how did you get the bruises?' Rita asked, lightly touching the bruises uncovered by her mother's hideous diner dress.

'Rita, it's not for you to worry about.'

'You always say that. Please, Mom, I want to know,' Rita pleaded. She hated being treated like she was still a child. She knew absolutely nothing of her parent's hardships. She knew they were protecting her from it, but she wanted to know to better prepare herself against the world before adulthood.

'Okay,' her sighed. She paused for a little while before starting up again. 'I think his name is Fred or Freddy as my boss likes to call him. He's a regular at the diner and the boss loves him. Says that his expenses accost for more than 15 per cent of the diner's income per week. Lately he's been more present at the diner. I only found out the reason today.'

'And what was the reason?'

'Me,' her mother sighed. Rita glanced at her mother's bruises again. They were in the shape of a man's hand.

'I tried to inform my boss about, but... he said it was good for business, you know? All businessmen, in diners, large companies-they're all for the profits. They're selfish pigs...that's why I married your father.'

Rita glanced up at her mother and Rachel chuckled. Rita always loved to hear about her parent's love stories. She'd heard endless stories of her parent's. Her favourite was when her father whisked her mother away from one of her parent's usual house parties and took her down the beach for a night of romance. Those lighter days when crime hasn't toppled over the world charts.

'Your father gave me a difference. Back then, as I remember it, I was... just existing. Then your father came into my life and showed me a difference...and I kind of woke up. He showed me a life that could be more meaningful and fulfilling than working an important desk job and rising in the ranks of Gotham's elite.'

'He showed you love,' Rita stated.

'Yes, he did,' Rita's mother took a sip from the whiskey bottle then grimaced at the taste. 'One day I want you to meet a nice man.'

Rita instantly thought of Jack. She'd already met one.

'And I want you have babies. Lots of babies, because our family is too small for my liking.'

'Then why didn't you have more kids?' Rita asked, genuinely curious as to why she didn't have any brothers or sisters. She would have loved the company of a sibling when she was younger. She still would now.

'Well birth is very painful, honey. I didn't think I can handle it again. I still get frightened when I think about giving birth. It can wonderful but horrible at the same time,' Rachel wiggled a finger in Rita's direction. 'You were a very stubborn baby. I was in labor for 18 hours.'

Rachel picked up the whiskey and swirled the contents inside. 'What am I doing with this? I hate this stuff.'

'Then why were you drinking?'

'I just needed something strong...because, you know,' Rachel sighed. 'I don't understand how Brendon can love this, it's disgusting.' At this, Rita thought of the time she'd tried her first drink. Jack had offered her Jack Daniels and it had been foul. Jack seemed to love it though; he had downed the whole content to the last drip.

It was then Rita realised how similar both her parents were to Jack and herself. Both Jack and her father loved their whiskey while on the other hand Rita and Rachel hated the taste. Jack and her father had blonde hair, though with different shades and were both tall. Rita and her mother were almost like twins; both had the same eyes, hair colour and height.

Rita curled up enthusiastically against her mother as she retold another story of her parents. One day, she and Jack will be like that. In fact, they already were. They were in the beginning of their story.

**Author's Note:  
Sorry for the wait, guys. Hope this chapter makes up for it. And despite what you probably all think, there is a reason as to why Jack decided to play the hero.**


	7. The Beginning, Part Seven

Brendon Dawson arrived home an hour later.

He was surprised when Aero had sprinted over to greet him, tail wagging frantically as his body shook from the cold. Brendon patted the shivering dog. It was chilly outside. Shouldn't he be inside? Brendon gestured Aero onto the porch. He eyed the crack on the window suspiciously as he readied his keys. Unlocking the door, he stepped inside along with Aero then cautiously locked the door behind him. Brendon switched the lights on and was surprised to find his two girls sound asleep together.

Rita's head was rested on her mother's shoulder as a pillow, both her arms wrapped around her mother. He noticed that his bottle of whiskey was opened. His wife must've tried drinking again. Rachel was still in her orange uniform dress, her legs and arms were exposed to the chilly atmosphere causing goosebumps to arise on her skin. Then Brendon noticed the dark bruises on Rachel's arm, an unfamiliar crow bar in the corner and the crack on the window. An alarming anxious feeling settled in his stomach. Had there been a break-in?

The male Dawson dearly hoped not. If anything were to have happened to his family...

He dropped his working bag down before he lightly shook Rita awake. He didn't have to attempt a second time; his daughter was a light sleeper.

'Oh, hi Dad,' Rita rubbed her eyes. 'What time is it?'

'Almost midnight. Why don't you get to bed?'

'Alright,' Rita said, too tired to make conversation even though this was the first encounter with her Dad for a while.

Rita made her way towards her bedroom, stumbling in the process. 'Good night, Dad.'

'Good night, Rita.'

Aero followed Rita behind.

'Oh, shoot! I forgot about Aero! I need to feed him,' Rita rounded the corner when she recognised Aero's soft padding on the wooden boards. Rita accidentally crashed into Aero in the process, causing the dog to whimper slightly. Rita apologised and rubbed behind Aero's ears. She guided Aero into the kitchen at the back.

Brendon kneeled down in a position next to his wife, placing his arms beneath her. His wife stirred in her sleep. He picked her up fully off the ground and laid her on the couch as gently as he could with a weakened back. Brendon's arms gave out when he felt a terrible pain shoot up his back while lowering his wife on the couch. Rachel stirred slightly from the rough landing. Unlike her daughter, Rachel was very much a heavy sleeper.

Brendon made sure that Rita was too preoccupied with feeding Aero before he attempted to wake his sleeping wife.

Rachel woke to the pressure of hands on her body. Warm, strong and rough hands. Just like Fred's.

Brendon was startled when Rachel all of a sudden pushed herself backwards against the couch, desperate to create distance between herself and him. She didn't know it was her husband; her eyes were still closed.

'No, get away from me, y-you freak!'

In order not grab Rita's attention, Brendon placed his hand over his wife's mouth, muffling her nerve-racking screams. Her face screwed up in fear, even though she wasn't really seeing. Brendon instantly hated to see her like that; like she was in battle with a predator and she was losing. Something extreme has definitely happened today to cause his wife to have nightmares. Perhaps it was the burglar. He'll kill that fucker.

Rachel's fists began thumping against Brendon's chest in an attempt to get him away from her. Brendon began coughing violently from each impact of her hard fists. He released both his hands on Rachel to grab his throat to try to soothe his coughing.

'Brendon?' came Rachel's soft voice. She stopped fighting though her body was still tense as if she would pounce at him any time.

Rachel began to slip back into consciousness when she recognised her husband's hollow coughs. She opened her eyes and relaxed when she recognised the man in front to be her husband. Rachel moved towards him to pat his back.

'You okay? I'm sorry about that,' Rachel stated, gazing at him worriedly.

Brendon regained himself after a moment. His hands softly grasped Rachel's shoulders, smoothing the tension out of them. Her husband's eyes travelled down to the fresh bruises on her arm.

'What happened to you?' Brendon trailed his fingers lightly across the bruises, careful not to hurt his wife.

'Um-'

'Who hurt you? And did someone break in? Was it the intruder who hurt you? Did he hurt Rita as well? Was the doorknob broken?'

'I don't beli-'

'-it's my fault,' he said frantically, slapping a hand to his forehead as if he'd forgotten something important. 'I didn't replace doorknob when we first came here. We have to get out of here.'

'Brendon, please, you're being irrational-' Rachel tried to regain her husband's attention.

'I risked my family's safety. I thought it would be all right to live in this neighbourhood. From what I remember, it wasn't as dangerous as it is now.'

'Brendon-'

'You have to take Rita and move into your parent's house, Rachel. It's too dangerous here. I'll stay here, it's much more convenient for work,' He stared in his wife's eyes. 'I'll stay in this place. Just for you-and Rita, too. I'll work my ass off so we can have a proper home again. I promise.'

Rachel just grabbed her husband, hugging him to her bosom.

'Brendon, you don't have to promise that. I want us to stay here. You and I and Rita-as a family,' She cradled him to her chest. 'I don't think you realise that Rita and I-we value family to our hearts and we wouldn't ever want this family to separate. So, please, Brendon, don't send us away.'

Brendon nodded his head, inhaling his wife's pleasant flowery scent. He remembered her perfume from when he'd first met her. He remembered telling Rachel he liked it. Up until now, she still purchased the same bottle of perfume and all the time he would compliment her on it.

Brendon also remembered during his childhood when he was behaving well, his parents would allow him to watch television. Secretly, he watched the Disney princess movies that sometimes came on. As he sat in the space, not a meter away from where he and his wife were embracing, watching Cinderella get bossed around by her step-family and finally gaining happiness with a dreamy prince charming. As he watched, Brendon knew then that he'd wanted to be Prince Charming one day and have a kind, gentle princess, like Cinderella, of his own. Years later, he met his princess at high class party he and his trouble-making friends crashed uninvited. When he'd first sighted Rachel, his long-forgotten Disney 'dream' had risen. It wasn't love at first sight; they weren't living the lives of Romeo and Juliet. But it was something of a curiosity, that soon blossomed to deep affection, then love. At that point, Brendon knew she was his 'Cinderella', despite how childish he knew it sounded.

But of course, he could never own a palace or gain the 'Prince Charming' title. And Rachel could never be a proper Cinderella, not because of her hair colour, but because Brendon could never afford the gowns and jewellery that every princess deserves. He was poor. He was the poor pauper in the fairy tale. Brendon was not Prince Charming, and he did not whisk Cinderella away to a life of luxury. He took her away from it. And now she was thanking him.

'Thank you, Brendon,' Rachel kissed his forehead. 'I love you.'

'Me too.'

Right then, it was just the two of them together, lost in their own world as they held each other just as they've always done when they were younger. As they got older, their time were divided into work, house chores, looking after Rita and other little trivial matters and times like this when they can just rest together in silence were rare especially now as they both had jobs. Brendon would often come home to the whole house silent and his wife sleeping on the bed they shared since marriage.

'You smell very nice tonight,' Brendon complimented.

'Why, thank you,' Rachel laughed and planted a kiss on her husband's lips.

'Today was such a hectic day,' Rachel said.

'Yes, I suppose so. I'm guessing Rita did that?' Brendon chuckled as he gestured to the window and the broken phone.

Rachel nodded. 'Yeah,' she breathed out.

...

Meanwhile Rita was in the kitchen scrounging for Aero's pet food; she couldn't remember where she put it last time. Surely in the same place as before she hoped. Aero, who couldn't wait any longer with an empty stomach, whined and assisted his primary owner, using his canine senses to find his painstakingly awaited dinner.

'Have you found it yet?' Rita twisted around to find Aero impatiently wagging his tail, clearly demanding she open the cupboard next to him. It was the cupboard underneath the sink. She'd already checked it. Shrugging, Rita decided to retry. Perhaps she'd been wrong about misplacing Aero's pet food.

'I'm sorry about this, boy. Today's been a tough day-for every one. Yes, including you too,' Rita giggled when Aero angled his head, staring intently at her.

Rita opened the cupboard under the sink. She stuck her head beneath the counter in search for the big yellow packet of Pedigree. The cupboard was too dark for Rita's eyes, so she stuck her hand inside and felt around. Her hand came into contact with something metal... or plastic? Rita couldn't tell even after her hand traced and observed the object with curiosity. It couldn't be part of the pipe system; it wasn't connected to the sink or the pipes. In fact, Rita could lift it if she used both arms. It was a foreign object hidden in the depths of the cupboard. It didn't belong underneath the sink, Rita contemplated.

Aero whined again at the elongated wait.

'Sorry, boy. It won't be another minute.'

Maybe the strange object did belong to the pipe system; it might be some kind of device used to improve the old pipe system. Or probably her dad's tools. Rita shrugged. It was a trivial matter that didn't concern her. Her hand moved and explored elsewhere until it gripped the plastic corner of the pet food bag.

'Here we go: Pedigree Meaty Bites for a Vibrant Healthy Coat in All Breeds.'

Opened the resealed package and poured the contents into Aero's aluminium bowl and refilled his drinking bowl. Aero happily and eagerly ducked his head into his long-awaited dinner Rita stood up from her crouching position, giving Aero privacy. Rita leaned her back against the refrigerator. She could hear her parents talking. She didn't bother listening. It was probably all those sappy things they said to one another when alone. Rita didn't know whether to puke or marvel at the sight of her parents pecking each other on the cheeks, lips, forehead and holding each others hand on the table. Though, it seemed she was admiring their relationship in the past few years and especially recently. Increasingly so. And Rita knew exactly what the cause was, or shall she say, who instead.

Rita giggled at the thought of that one person. Their relationship was building up nicely however at a relatively safe pace unfortunately. Rita was afraid she'd stuffed up along the way causing their relationship to become as pointless as one between two neighbours. Rita was pretty sure she'd set the relationship on the right track. She left many hints: the kiss on the jawline, the elongated hug, the wink...

Rita blushed madly as she thought up what she could do to him next. Next time she could commence a heated make-out session... or...she could give him a hand job...whatever that was. Rita heard many girls at her school talk about 'giving a boy a hand job' in the bathroom as well as many boys while chatting to their mates at the lockers. From what she could tell, it was rather pleasing-to the boys at least. Was it some kind of sensual touching of the body? Caressing of the shoulders, the chest, the arms, the legs...the bottom, maybe?

Rita shrugged away the idea. She shouldn't commence something if she wasn't sure what that something is.

Rita moved her thoughts away from that area. All this thinking and planning about Jack has left her cheeks slightly burning red, Rita was sure she looked like some kind of...sick tomato. Speaking of food, she'd forgotten all about her stomach; the sleepiness and lack of energy must have shut some parts of her brain down or something.

She probably should just go to sleep with an empty stomach, besides what will the energy be used for when she was asleep? It could also help Rita burn the small layer of fat on her abdomen, arms and thighs that prevented her from having a slender but ample figure like her mom. That way, Rita could be more confident about herself. She could then make more friends at school with the nice popular kids, like Elliot, whom she used to have an innocent, non-sensuous crush (unlike Jack's) on before she found out her best friend and countless other girls in her class had one too. She'd stepped down then and never peaked a look at Elliot again.

Besides, Rita has Jack now and no other girl will be able to make her step down; she was too far in this relationship to back down. Jack was a treasure and Rita would be blind if she denied that Jack was a charming and attractive man. Her mother was as blind as a pirate with one eye, seeing but not totally seeing the Jack; only seeing half-way through his eerie side and not his bountiful side that made Rita swoon. Yes, Rita admits that there is a dangerous side to him, although it is perfectly balanced with his good-natured, fun-loving side. That was what made Jack stand out from other boys in her class whom she paid no attention to any more or the half-naked male models in magazines. Occasionally she still admires those models and their far too perfect tan and body image, though nothing could replace or compare to Jack's amazing self.

...

After Aero finished his dinner, Rita placed both his bowls in the sink; she was too tired to wash them tonight. She would do so next morning. Right now she had to get to bed. Instantly. Right now she had to get to bed. Instantly. She had an outing with Lara tomorrow morning; they were going shopping in the city. They both agreed as Rita needed to update her wardrobe for the upcoming winter and Lara was invited to a house party for the first time hosted by a popular junior level girl (well, technically Lara was invited by a class mate whose brother was friends with said party host) and she wanted to impress the party-goers with a 'fabulous' outfit. Lara confessed to Rita that she wanted to upgrade her social standing this year; a house party where all popular kids of Gotham High were going to attend was a perfect opportunity. Rita, having heard numerous negative stories about the going-ons in teen house parties, warned Lara about the (possible) drug use, (definite) alcohol and the sex that transpires behind closed doors.

Rita made her way to her bedroom, leaning against the walls to help her balance upright. Aero followed Rita to the bedroom where he now resided since his move to the Narrows. Back where they used to live, Aero had his own little sleeping place indoors when in winter and a dog shelter outside for summer.

Rita slumped on her rigid, newly-constructed bed, pulling the covers over her head; tonight was so chilly that Rita worried her nose might fall off during her sleep. Aero laid himself down in his makeshift bed of the knitted blanket courtesy of Mrs. Dawson.

No matter how many times Rita tossed and turned, finding the 'right spot' on her bed, Rita could not doze off. Which was unusual as she was already sleepy to begin with, almost to the point of dropping to the ground if she was standing.

It wasn't the coldness in the atmosphere, her whole body was wrapped in a huge, multi-coloured knitted blanket identical to Aero's one; nor was it because of Aero's meaty breath.

What Rita couldn't sleep through was the talking happening behind her bedroom walls in the living room. She was a light-sleeper after all.

Although her eyes were shut and ready to delve into sleep, her ears were not. They were alert and picking up everything her parents were saying. It must have been alarming to catch her attention.

'Let's tell her tomorrow,' travelled Rachel's voice through the old plaster walls.

'Rachel, we can't tell Rita. She's too young.' Her father's voice.

'Yes, fifteen is 'too young',' Rita could imagine Rachel rolling her eyes. 'Do you remember what we did when we were fifteen, Brendon?'

An embarrassed silence.

'That's what I thought. Our little girl wants to grow up now. It's about time we allow her the opportunity into adulthood...and we should also get Rita a phone, she's getting quite cranky with me lately.'

'I'm not sure we can afford that, I mean we have to fix the window, get you a new phone, pay the school fees, electricity and...' Brendon continued listing off countless other bills. '...and then we have the medical bill.'

Medical bill?

The only medical bills Rita knew her family had was the time she'd gotten a dental check-up they fully paid up front. And that was 1 year ago. Maybe her dad's back was getting worse and the medical bill Rita's parents were talking about were for acupuncture or massage therapy sessions...but it couldn't be because her Dad's job didn't involve heavy lifting of any sort that could worsen his condition, unless he was to transport heavy objects around the chemical plant and even so, he would be using some sort of trolley.

Rita would liked to have listened further and find out about her parent's secret 'medical bills' however her traitorous brain decided then to for her to sleep. Rita slipped off into nothingness.

Unfortunately, the next day Rita would have forgotten about her new findings the same way she always forgets everything she learns in Chemistry class the next day.

**Author's Note: I am so, so, so sorry for the long update! I'm going to be honest with you guys but I didn't write for a while because... Well, there's no reason. I guess I was uninterested for a while. Until next time-Cheers!**


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